Never Perfect Enough
by ALilyPea
Summary: Sometimes a person can never be perfect enough in their own eyes, and sometimes it takes drastic measures for someone to feel that they are. Warning: Contains depictions of someone with an eating disorder, if you don't like it don't read it.


WARNING: Contains depictions of someone suffering from an eating disorder.

* * *

_Please die Ana, For as long as you're here we're not_

_You're ugly disgusting. You'll never be good enough, too skinny, and too fat. _He mused to himself as he looked at his marred reflection in the mirror, marred only by his own mind. He didn't see what was really there anymore, overcome by delusions and untruths. He was by no means an unattractive man to anyone but himself. His stunning hazel/green eyes had captured many hearts, his trim lithe body had as well. He had strong, hands worn with work that were as warm as his heart. His sweet smile, almost shy but playing on the edge of flirtation completed the package but he couldn't see it anymore.

Someone had infected him, turned him against himself, twisting him inside out and making him believe their lies. He no longer knew which way was up, he no longer saw himself when he looked in the mirror. He would never be able to please himself, never be exactly what he needed to be. He required perfection.

_You make the sound of laughter, And sharpened nails seem softer_

At the restaurant his friends laughed around him, enjoying life, enjoying their meals. He was disgusted, pushing his food around on his plate, not eating. There was too much fat in it, it seeped through the edges of the meat, the whole meal in front of him seeming to pulse at him, seeming to beg for him to eat it but he wouldn't.

But the smell, oh god that smell, it was so nice and his stomach growled at the remembrance of the food it had been refused. He wanted to eat but had learned to develop an iron clad control, he wouldn't give in. He was no longer sleeping, staying up at night so he wouldn't even dream of food, his paranoia about gaining weight growing daily. His stomach hurt, a harsh pain, a thousand knives sliding into fat that no longer existed.

Chris Jericho looked at him, concern in those blue eyes that he refused to meet. He would be perfect one day and he would show them all, he would be perfect for him. For them. He could handle this, just a little while longer if he kept going, and then he would never have to worry again. Everything would be okay.

_And I need you now somehow, And I need you now somehow_

Curling into the fetal position he whimpered nearly writhing in pain on the floor, the tiles of the bathroom floor cool against his skin. _So dizzy, so painful. _Tears slipped down his cheeks as he clenched his fists, determined to make it through his promise to himself no matter what. _Food will make it better _A voice in the back of his head told him.

_No, no food. I have to lose weight; I'm too fat, too ugly. I have to be beautiful for __him,__ I have to be beautiful for Chris. He deserves better than what I am._ He had no roommate, no one to help him with the slowly passing pain that seemed to tear at his innards, making him tremble with every wave that washed over him. He closed his eyes tightly and prayed for it to pass, prayed for it all to be over. _I need you Chris. _

_Open fire on the needs designed, On my knees for you,__Open fire on my knees desires,__What I need from you._

Locks of hair fell into his face as he retched into the toilet. He had eaten but couldn't stand to keep the filth in his stomach. So it had come to this at last, shoving his fingers down his throat to rid himself of the fat. Flushing the toilet he pulled himself up, weakly stumbling toward the sink and washing his hands thoroughly.

Glancing at himself in the mirror he sneered in disgust, _Still Ugly…_He thought to himself, before a protesting voice spoke up. _No beautiful, Chris said so, he's worried about you. _That voice again, it was always there, always chastising him.

_Imagine pageant,__In my head the flesh seems thicker,__Sandpaper tears corrode the film_

The once pretty tanned skins pulled taught against the bones on his face, making his eyes seem sunken in and almost skeletal. His sparkling eyes had become the shade of dull moss but when he looked into the mirror he felt triumphant. He was going to be beautiful, and he was going to be skinny.

His friends worried, trying to tell him to stop what he was doing but he brushed them off, ignored them entirely. What did they know? He just couldn't see himself anymore, couldn't see that his skin looked so thin, as though a single tear could cut him.

_And I need you now somehow,__And I need you now somehow_

Gasping he tried to catch his breath as he walked into the catering room set up for the stars backstage, the smell. It was so sickening, so completely awful that it almost made him sick to his stomach. He turned and fled back to the dressing room, ignoring the strange, pitying looks he got from those he passed.

_Open fire on the needs designed,__On my knees for you,__Open fire on my knees desires,__What I need from you._

He was beginning to get used to this game. He'd missed his friends but now he could go out with them and they didn't worry about him anymore. He would eat and laugh while talking with them, even have a few drinks, managing to control himself until he'd get back to his hotel room.

After, when he was alone in his hotel room bathroom he would sink to his knees and purge himself of the shame of food. It felt good to be rid of it; it had weighed so heavily on his stomach. He'd do it until he felt empty again not aware that due to the thin walls Chris listened with tears welling in his eyes.

_And you're my __obsession;__I love you to the bones_

Smiling proudly he looked at himself in the mirror, turning from side to side. He was doing well and could even see his ribs protruding the slightest bit. He was sculpted and didn't seem to notice that his clothes hung off of him, didn't realize that the reason he suddenly had a leave of absence except for appearances and promos was because no one really knew what to do with him.

To Shannon Moore, who he shared a dressing room with he looked disgusting, a shadow. His ribs stuck out sickly from his skin, his wrists looked like they could be snapped in a second. He was no longer himself, just a shell.

_And Ana wrecks your life,__Like an anorexic life_

Collapsing on the cold hard floor he sobbed loudly, landing in the remnants of a shattered mirror, of a shattered soul. He was hideous, almost skeletal. His eyes were the black eyes of a man beaten, of a haunted child.

Chris gathered him in his strong arms, "Shhh you'll be okay, I'll help you. It's okay Jeff," He whispered soothingly.

"I wanted to be beautiful for you," Jeff murmured, sighing softly.

"You were always beautiful to me; I just wanted you to stop. I just wanted you to be happy," Chris smiled softly even though he felt like he was breaking on the inside.

Jeff shook his head rapidly, "I was Chris!" He yelled, shoving him away. "Ignorance is bliss, you shouldn't have told me. Why couldn't you just leave me to die?" He curled in on himself, wrapping his thin arms around himself.

Chris looked startled and not knowing what to do stood up, walking out of the room quickly he didn't care that his heart was breaking.

Jeff watched him go and fell, into a deep unconsciousness on the floor of the dressing room.

_Open fire on the needs designed,__On my knees for you,__Open fire on my knees desires,__What I need from you,__Open fire on the needs designs,__Open fire on my knees desires,__What I need from you_

Jeff sighed, here he was. It had all come to this, a hospital, a treatment centre. Who would've thought the once great highflier would find himself in a place, enclosed in a room by four white walls. It was sterile. Almost lifeless. But he would succeed, he would get better for himself, and for Chris.

Turning to the table he was sitting at he began to write, his pen moving swiftly across the page.

'Dear Chris,

Thank you so much for your help, your love and your letters. I particularly like the CD you sent me. I never really listened to Silverchair before. But I suppose I never really listened.

You stood by me when others fell out of step. All I wanted was to be beautiful, and I realize now that I was. And I will once again. I hope I still am in your eyes.

I love you, and I'll see you soon.

Jeff.' He smiled and slipped the letter into an envelope. He was going to be whole again, he would be ready to live the life he'd nearly thrown away and hopefully he would be able to do it with Chris by his side.The End


End file.
